Cultural Artefact Analysis: Exploring Friendship and Cultural Identity

This report provides a detailed analysis of a cultural artefact, focusing on the author's personal experiences and the development of friendships within a racially and socio-economically diverse community. The author reflects on their childhood encounters with an African-American gardener, highlighting themes of discrimination, empathy, and the formation of meaningful connections. The narrative explores the impact of societal biases and the importance of understanding different perspectives. The report delves into the author's experiences in high school, their interactions with the gardener's son, and the discovery of a supportive community. It also touches upon the challenges faced by marginalized groups and the significance of community bonds in overcoming adversity. The report emphasizes the author's personal growth and the realization that happiness is not solely dependent on material possessions. Finally, the report emphasizes the importance of empathy, understanding, and the value of diverse friendships in shaping one's perspective on life.

Running Head: CULTURAL ARTEFACT ANALYSIS
Cultural Artefact Analysis
Name of the Student
Name of the University
Author’s Note:

1CULTURAL ARTEFACT ANALYSIS
Meaning of Friendship
Being a resident and growing up in all White vicinity, I had difficulty in making
friends due to my Asian origin and my accent. I was not hard for me to imagine what’s it’s to
be when one goes through discrimination due to their skin color. There was a gardener who
lived in our locality who was African-American, Mr Douglas, and I could see his discomfort
when people around used to look at him twice, the same look I got everywhere I went. After
school, I used to sit in my table to study, which looked over to a garden next door. I loved
watching this garden as it was filled with orange trees and all different kinds of flower, as I
was reminded of my grandparents’ house back home. But what I loved more was that I could
see them growing in all stages and the effort of the person behind it that goes unappreciated
and unrecognized. I saw him toiling throughout the day, changing soil, adding fertilizers and
keeping the garden in shape.
The garden looked ethereal in the spring with the flowers blooming, and I could smell
them from my window. I used to go over the fence and talk to him when I was a kid and was
enchanted by his knowledge of gardening. He could tell by touching and smelling the soil if
the plant would be able to grow in it or has to be fertilized. He showed me how he used to
make natural fertilizers with the garbage disposed of by the family. I even used to help him
by pointing out the dead leaf and the unshapely growth, which he used to trim. I remember
him giving me oranges during winters and me crying when the elegant looking tree filled
with vibrant oranges were stripped off their fruits. One more reason I loved to talk was that,
for no apparent reason, I could relate to him more than I could refer to my friends from
school or my art class.
It was not until I went to High School that I came to know that he lived in the suburbs
where there was a massive population of African-Americans used to live, and they all worked

2CULTURAL ARTEFACT ANALYSIS
as domestic help in nearby localities. It was during one of my summer breaks when I noticed
that he has been irregular when I asked Mrs Jones on whose garden he worked, and she
informed that he has not been keeping well. I made it up in my mind that I will talk to him
when I see him next, but the next time I saw a young boy of my age working in the garden.
At once, I thought that he has been replaced and went ahead to inquire and saw that he
resembled Mr Douglas. He introduced himself as Melvin and said that he was his son and
that he was running a fever and out of fear of losing the job has sent him to cover his
position. Melvin and I started talking, and in no time I could feel that there is basically no
difference between the both of us and that he was also a High School student and used to
work as a dog runner for several people. When I was talking to him, I saw that most of the
people who were passing by were giving him a look which I recognized to be the same given
to me. I felt a surge of anger developing in me and felt like shouting at them, but Melvin
asked me to ignore them as he is used to it. This broke my heart even further. Even a look
given to someone can have such a long-lasting and derogatory effect. It was this small
conversation which made me feel the similarity between us.
There was no looking back after that day after he completed his work, I went along
with him to his locality, which opened my eyes to an altogether different meaning of life and
community. I saw children gathered in the parks if we can call them one. There were from all
age group playing together, playing football and basketball, teaching the younger ones and
just being present. What stood out for me was that nobody saw me or gave me the same look
which Melvin and Douglas got in mine. They were all welcoming, and I was introduced as
both of their friends. I saw Douglas in a different light as well. He was standing tall and was
talking to young children with authority, but the same welcoming smile was still there.
I went there daily after that and never felt out of place once. I did not think that I was
not one of them; their mothers were welcoming, giving me food. We mostly played

3CULTURAL ARTEFACT ANALYSIS
basketball, and they even taught me how to dunk. While talking with them, I noticed that they
were all so hopeful yet realistic about their future. I saw them looking after children of their
neighbors while the parents took off for their work. I started carrying my home works to
complete and found out that Melvin loved Literature and his writings were terrific, and I
could no longer see him as the boy working in the garden. I knew in my heart that he would
mark his name in the world. Douglas had two daughters who were more loving than anyone I
have ever met in my life. They loved listening to Backstreet Boys, and we used to make
music from the utensils and sing at the top of our lungs. I was taken aback at the time when
they came to know of my birthday, and despite the lack of resources and money, they
organized a party for me in an hour. I am not complaining about my other friends, but they
are the closest thing to me even today, as close to me as my own family.
The way I drifted towards them, and when I saw their deprived living condition, it
made me think of the privileges I enjoy just because I was born and raised in my native place
and my parents worked and provided enough for me to drive in the school bus with others. It
made me realize that being happy and satisfied has nothing to do with how many cars we
have or how big our houses are; it depends on our perception of life. Their life has never been
limited to material things. They live their life as one community growing together.